


The Shoes We're Not Filling

by gilligankane



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-24
Updated: 2011-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There has always been a plan to get out of Lima. They mended the plan to fit their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shoes We're Not Filling

There has always been a plan to get out of Lima. The reasons have changed since the first time they made up their minds, but the plan was always the same: get out of Lima, together.  
  
They mended the plan to fit their lives. Freshman year of high school, Santana honestly believed that it would be her and Brittany and Puck all squished together in the three-seater of a Greyhound bus on graduation day. In eighth grade, Brittany calculated how many different pairs of shoes they could fit in one backpack. Junior year, Santana was sure that they’d get out, but on different buses, to different cities, with different people and that nearly killed her.  
  
But when the last day of summer after their senior year comes, they’re both in Brittany’s driveway the keys to Santana’s car and two train tickets from Columbus to New York.  
  
Santana has been alternatively dreading and waiting for this moment for longer than she can remember.  
  
“Just another minute,” Brittany says quietly, on her knees at the top of the driveway, scratching at Lord Tubbington’s stomach. “I don’t know how to say goodbye.”  
  
What Santana hadn’t factored into their plans, that Brittany had factored incorrectly, was Lord Tubbington. Never having a pet, Santana had always been a little envious of Brittany’s two cats – envious in the same way that she was envious of her baby cousins. She wanted a baby but only if she could give it back at the end of the day. Lord Tubbington made her feel the same way.  
  
Having to leave him behind was more upsetting than Santana would ever admit.  
  
“I understand,” Brittany had said too softly, wringing her hands together. “He’s too old to make the trip. I just wish he could.”  
  
Santana had smoothed her fingers across the skin under Brittany’s eyes. “I’m so sorry he can’t come.”  
  
Brittany had nodded and given Santana a sad smile and petted Lord Tubbington for the rest of the day, curled up in the corner of the couch.  
  
“Take your time,” Santana said, reaching down and running her hand through B’s hair. Brittany looks up at her and gives her the same watery smile she’s been wearing all summer and Santana impulsively leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to Brittany’s forehead. “I’ll be in the car.”  
  
It takes ten minutes before Brittany stands up and another five before she walks to the car, her steps slow and heavy. She sighs as she slides into the passenger seat, biting down on her bottom lip, her head turned out towards the window. Mrs. Pierce is waving at them, Lord Tubbington in her arms.  
  
It takes three minutes to get to the end of the street and Brittany is sobbing before they reach the stop sign.  
  
“We have to go back,” she says, fingers scratching against the door handle. “We can’t leave him here. I’m all he has.” She starts pulling at the lock but her blunt nails slide around it uselessly. “Santana, turn around. Turn the car around.”  
  
Santana shakes her head and reaches over, trying to put a calming hand on Brittany’s knee, but Brittany bats her away.  
  
“No. Turn the car around. I can’t leave him. Don’t make me leave him,” she says, eyes wet and red. “I would never leave you behind. Don’t make me leave Lord Tubbington.”  
  
But Santana puts her foot back on the gas pedal, telling herself that her plan is worth it, even as Brittany draws her legs to her chest and presses her face into her knees, crying and mumbling Lord Tubbington’s name. She glances in the rearview mirror and nods at herself.  
  
She knew leaving Lord Tubbington behind was going to hurt Brittany. So she mended the plan.  
  
When they reach the Lima town line, she pulls the car over right before it, careful to leave the doors locked so that Brittany doesn’t get out of the car and try to make a run for it, back to her house and her cat. She leans over the center console and reaches down into the space behind the back of her seat.  
  
Brittany sniffs loudly. “What are you doing?”  
  
“You’ll see,” Santana whispers, twisting her body to grab with both hands. She holds a small cage up, placing it down gently on the console, smiling at the eyes blinking back at her. “Go ahead,” she urges Brittany. “Open it.”  
  
Brittany fumbles with the lock on the cage, her hands still shaking from crying. It unsnaps loudly, metal on metal, and the eyes disappear into the darkness of the cage at the sound. “Hey,” Brittany murmurs softly, reaching in blindly. “It’s okay.”  
  
She pulls a small kitten out – brown and black with a long stripe of white between its green eyes. It fits into the basin of her hands, only a little bigger than when Santana bought it a week ago. Brittany looks down at it with wonder in her eyes, her mouth falling open slightly.  
  
“San,” she says softly. “Is this… Did you get… Is it ours?”  
  
The word ‘ours’ sparks something inside Santana’s chest, stealing her capability to speak and leaving her with only the ability to nod.  
  
Brittany makes a noise in her throat and pulls the kitten to her chest, sighing as it curls against her, seeking her warmth. “San, it’s gorgeous.”  
  
“It’s a she,” Santana finally manages to say, stroking the top of the kitten’s head. “And she’s ours.”  
  
“What’s her name?” Brittany grins at her, eyes still red but drying.  
  
Santana shrugs, fingering the pink collar and tag around the kitten’s neck, flipping the tag up so Brittany can see it. It’s blank, waiting for a name. “Whatever you want it to be. I wanted to you pick it.”  
  
Brittany studies the kitten, holding her up so they’re eye-to-eye, staring at her for a long minute. “Her name is Valentine. Doesn’t she look like a Valentine? A Valentine from my Valentine.”  
  
 _It’s not even close to being February_ , Santana wants to say. But she nods and says “totally,” shooting the cat an apologetic look. “It’s perfect. We’ll get the tag all set when we reach the city. How’s that sound?”  
  
She starts the car and pulls back onto the road, grinning and watching Brittany coo at Valentine out of the corner of her eye, cradling her close and kissing the top of her head. “She’s so soft,” Brittany keeps saying.   
  
“And so tiny. She tiny and soft and ours.” Her smiles fades for a moment as she stares down at the kitten.   
  
“She’s not replacing Lord Tubbington, is she?”  
  
“No,” Santana says quickly. “No cat could ever replace Lord Tubbington.”  
  
Brittany nods. “No, no cat ever could.”  
  
“But Valentine is going to be ours and be with us until we can go see Lord Tubbington again,” Santana continues.  
  
“And we’ll always love Lord Tubbington, but Valentine needs love too and we’re the perfect people to give it to her, aren’t we?” Brittany finishes.  
  
Santana smiles and strokes the white line between the kitten’s eyes, dropping her hand to Brittany’s thigh. “The perfect people,” she agrees. “Of course we are.”  
  
“We’re going to love this kitten so hard.”  
  
“Of course we are,” Santana repeats.  
  
Brittany leans over the console and kisses the side of Santana’s face, pressing Valentine’s rough nose against the same spot.  
  
They cross the Lima line like that: Brittany leaning into her, Valentine’s soft fur against Santana’s cheek, Santana grinning back at the two of them.  
  
The plans might have changed over time, but they leave Lima together and Santana calls that a victory.


End file.
